The castle’s food galley, once a drab dining hall for the Realmsic Council and staff, now served as the Legionaries’ mess hall. Rectangular tables that could accommodate 50 hungry soldiers each lined the room. But with staggered patrol shifts and unpredictable work routines, the galley rarely stayed filled. Seku grabbed his food from the chow line and sat by himself on the far end of the galley.
Poking at his food with a fork, he tried to identify the contents. The vegetables were grown from the castle’s garden and were always good. Meat, however, was a different story due to the shortage of cattle. It had become customary to season all meats the same, regardless of their source. Identification of the meat was relatively impossible.
As he moved the food around on the plate, a Legionarie carrying a tray sat across the table, a few seats opposite him. Neither man acknowledged the other, which Seku was fine with. Unless soldiers were friends, they never spoke or sat directly across from one another.
The soldier seemed to be equally puzzled by the ingredients in his meal. A large gaping laceration stretched from the man’s right eye to the bottom of his jaw line. Although no longer bleeding, it looked fairly new and painful.
Seku couldn’t resist. “Does that hurt?” he asked the soldier.
“Not anymore,” the Legionarie replied, seeming to know exactly what Seku was asking about.
“That’s quite a battle scar,” Seku said matter-of-factly as the man chewed. It was hard not imagining how painful an injury it must have been. The punctured skin was irritatingly red and swollen near the stitches.
“It ain’t from battle,” the man responded with a full mouth, neither looking at him nor speaking directly to him. Seku could tell he was agitating his comrade.
“My apologies, soldier. I meant no offense. Must have been a terrible accident.”
The soldier slammed his fist on the table. “It ain’t from no accident either,” he growled, this time looking directly at Seku. The man’s face was bright red with anger.
The Legionarie pointed to his cut. “This is what happens when you ask questions ‘round here.”
For an instance, Seku couldn’t speak. The man’s torment was obvious by the pain in his voice and the suffering that lined his face. “What type of questions would result in such cruelty?”
The man looked around before speaking again. Leaning over the table toward Seku, he whispered, “Questions like the ones you’re askin’.” The Legionarie then lowered his head and returned to eating his mystery meat.
But Seku’s inquisitive nature had been piqued. He wanted answers. Clearly, he would be getting none from his comrade unless he pressed him ever so slightly.
“Ha, ha, ha, you had me going for a moment,” Seku grinned, folding his arms around his chest as if suppressing an even greater laugh.
The soldier looked up, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”
“Well, surely you’re joking with me, and that’s just a battle scar. It’s so obviously a battle scar that you felt the need to poke fun at an old soldier for not minding his own business. I don’t believe that there’s a question that could result in such brutality.”
The Legionarie slammed his eating utensils on his tray, spraying some of his food across the table. “Don’t toy with me, old man!” he scoffed. “If you so eager to know what happened, then you try askin’ questions ‘bout the Warlord and see if you don’t end up just like me, or worse!”
The soldier stared unflinchingly into his eyes. Behind their anger, Seku could sense a hint of sadness. He glanced over his shoulder at the other inhabitants of the room. They were all engaged in their own doings, paying neither of them any mind.
Seku leaned in closer. “I need not ask ... because I’ve already heard of such things. I just hadn’t believed them to be true.”
The soldier’s brown eyes softened, just a bit. “Believe ‘em,” he said. “There’s a natural order to things ‘round here, such as doin’ what you’re told—”
“Despite what you see,” Seku finished his sentence.
The soldier nodded in agreement.
Seku rose to his feet and moved to the seat directly across from him. “Friend,” he whispered. “It appears that disregarding what you see would be a much healthier option. But how do you just ignore the things that don’t make sense?” Seku decided to take a chance pushing the topic further. “For example, we fight to end magic, yet we use it to our own advantage—perhaps have even become dependent upon it.”
The Legionarie’s eyes became as wide as Realmsic tokens.
“Makes it awfully difficult to abolish that which you’ve come to need,” Seku finished.
Perhaps it was the comforting presence of an older comrade that stirred the soldier’s feelings. He took a deep breath. “Difficult indeed ... friend.” The soldier paused briefly. “Hey, I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier.”
“Think nothing of it,” Seku said as he went back to eating his meal. However, the soldier could not.
“Some weeks ago,” he began, “in the city of Amden, my friends disappeared.” The Legionarie’s words betrayed his emotions.
Amden. The Legion had blown through a number of places, but Seku specifically remembered that city.
The soldier continued, “Durin’ one of our routine encampments, the three of us were excited ‘bout the upcomin’ battle against the kingdom. While we were talkin’, my friend Cail asked me and my other buddy Tam how we felt ‘bout what was goin’ on.”
“What do you mean?” Seku asked.
“Like what you just said, why was magic bein’ used despite us tryin’ to get rid of it. Well, someone must’ve overheard our conversation and ratted us out, ‘cause the next day at roll call, Cail was gone. Later that day, I couldn’t find Tam either. When I got back to my tent, two big guys from the Warlord’s personal guard were waitin’ for me.”
Seku’s heart beat heavily as his comrade spoke, for he suddenly remembered the names Cail and Tam.
“They asked if my name was Reeze. I said yeah, what of it? Next thing I know, I was on the ground of my own tent, and General Thane was relievin’ me of a rather large piece of my face.”
“Noooo,” Seku exclaimed. He flinched backward in his chair.
“Don’t you see the side of my face? I thought for sure I was dead. But he told me that three soldiers were too many to lose right before a great battle. Needless to say, I got the point … literally. And from one soldier to another, it’s a message you too should listen to.”
A feeling of dread overwhelmed Seku, yet the warning had nothing to do with it. He remembered that night at the encampment and the three soldiers huddled around their small campfire. The weather had been unusually cold as the three talked about things they shouldn’t have been talking about.
In the shadows, he’d listened to their entire conversation. As his duty demanded, Seku immediately reported them to the Warlord Damian. He was a spy, tasked with gathering intelligence on his comrades under the guise of maintaining order. But now he sat face-to-face with the hideous reality of his actions.
Soldiers boasted and, in hindsight, those men did nothing that should’ve cost them so dearly. Seku was no stranger to taking life. But not when it was unwarranted. Had he always been so blind? Seku patted his comrade gently on the forearm, where it rested on the table.
“Thank you, friend, for warning an old soldier,” Seku said. “At my age, having one less thing to worry about is like gaining one more day above ground.”
Seku pushed his chair back and stood.
“Hey,” the soldier peered up at him. “I told you my name was Reeze. What’s yours?”
“Oh, sorry,” he said, “I’m Seku.”
They shook hands. “Good talkin’ to you. You gonna eat that?” He pointed to Seku’s mystery meat.
The old soldier chuckled. “Have at it.” He plopped it upon his comrade’s tray.
Chapter Forty